


Party's First Bad Luck Beads

by Flick (raynon)



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: First Blowjob, Frotting, M/M, Slight car collision tw, jet might have a slight thing of giving praise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25613026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raynon/pseuds/Flick
Summary: Set when Jet is still pretty new to the crew; he and Party finish off a Drac chase and cool down afterward.
Relationships: Jet Star/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Kudos: 14





	Party's First Bad Luck Beads

Contrary to their name, it was a rare occasion for Dracs to attack at night. But then again, in this instance, they had been chasing the AM for at least four hours now, dangerously circling the edge of Zone 6 and 7 for a while now. The herd had thinned down until two on bikes remained, but they were persistent bastards.

Jet did his best to keep steady, though with the 110-mile-an-hour wind beating against his back and the lack of sunlight, his aim was practically useless.

“C’mon, Star! We’re down to a quarter tank, if this chase keeps up any longer, we’re gonna strand ourselves out here,” Party demanded, his knuckled white against the steering wheel.

Jet dodged a beam. “Why don’t you try somethin’, then!”

Party’s nostrils flared, and he bit down hard on his lip. “Fine. Grip the roof, motherfucker.” He pushed the acceleration up to 120 before turning the wheel until it locked, nearly throwing Jet from the car despite his warning. It took him a few seconds to straighten out, now facing the oncoming Dracs and bracing for a head-on collision. “GET DOWN!”

Jet ducked back into his seat and held onto whatever he could. One Drac got out of the way in time, its bike skidding sideways off-road, though the other bike smashed into one of the headlights, and the Drac’s body shattered the windshield before flying over both their heads and landing in the red glow of the AM’s tail.

Party kept driving, but got slower and turned around once more before finally stopping. “Think you can shoot ‘em now?” he asked, his whole body shaking as he panted.

Jet’s nails dug into the seat’s leather, leaving permanent cuts in the upholstery. “Party, you could have fucked the axle!” Although his body needed a few seconds to catch up with itself as well, he groaned loudly and forced himself to jump out and double-tap the Dracs for good measure.

Party’s joints were stiff, and in the moment, he was afraid of being stuck in this position for the rest of his (assumedly) short life. He was thankful that his lungs still worked, though, open-mouthed and just trying not to breathe in as much dust as possible. His blood felt like lightning.

“Party?” Jet called back after a minute, half-stumbling around to the driver’s side. “Party. Look at me.” He holstered his blaster and pressed a hand against the roof, his other raising the leader’s chin. “It’s not worth the lecture, but I’m gonna kick your ass if you do that again. Hear me?”

Party tried to swallow, but he found his mouth had dried up, and he grimaced at the feeling. “At least we got ‘em.”

Jet rolled his eyes. “I guess. It’s gonna take a while to find some replacement glass, though.” His fingers stroked Party’s jaw. “Turn the engine off. You need to calm down a bit before you start driving again, your pupils are the size of fuckin’ satellite dishes.” When he pulled back, he slid over the AM’s hood and returned to the passenger’s side.

Party’s panting eventually slowed down, and his knuckles ached when they finally unlocked themselves. His hands dropped from the steering wheel and into his lap before he remembered what Jet had told him, and the hum of the engine silenced with the turn of the key. He left the accessories on, at least; it was a necessity to keep a radio close at all times.

Both of them knew it wasn’t the wisest idea to stay out this far for too long. Zone 7’s radiation levels left nasty burns in the daytime, and even the air had the strangest thrum to it. Or perhaps that was just the reaction of their brains slowly soaking it in. Nevertheless, they sat, stewing in their thoughts.

“We really coulda died, huh?” Party croaked.

Jet exhaled all his breath. “We could die at literally any second. I wouldn’t hold the guilt in...we’re alive now and the car’s fixable.”

Party lowered his face. “D’you think it’s bad luck for a runner to die a virgin?”

“What?” Jet did a double-take. “No-- what?!”

“I dunno, I just...people think of weird shit in near-death experiences. And I, uh...” Party pressed his back harder against his seat. “Y’know, I’ve only been out here a year now. Everyone out here seems like...it’s all about fuckin’ and stickin’ it to BLi.”

Jet stared at him. “Uh huh.”

“Nevermind.” Party ran his fingers back through his hair. “I’m shootin’ nonsense.” The trembling started up again as he cleared his throat. It seemed clear he had trouble keeping still? “Jet?”

“Yeah, dude?”

His lips parted, but he struggled at first. “I...I wouldn’t mind bein’ held right now.” His nails dug into the acid-wash rips of his jeans. Silence reigned over them for only a few seconds, and Party was just about ready to jump out of the car and book it into the night to save himself the shame, until--

“Get in the back.” Jet moved as well, climbing over his seat before Party could settle himself against him. Jet remained sitting up, one foot horizontal while the other one rested against the floor. He’d rolled the window up so he had something to lean back against. Pulling Party in, he rested the leader’s head on his shoulder and their chests pressed together.

Party’s legs weighed Jet’s thighs down, arms limp around his waist. Jet’s neck smelled like lingering sunlight and laser smoke and sweat and leather, and his torso was warm against the dropping temperature, and his regrets were cast to the wind. If he could do it all again just to end up right here, he would.

Jet’s breath was slow, chin tilted up so he could just stare blankly at the stars, one hand pressed lightly against the small of Party’s back. He sucked air between his teeth. “Have you ever heard of bad luck beads?”

Party hummed, then gave a tiny nod, his nose brushing against Jet’s pulse point. “Just in passing. It’s some sorta desert axiom, right?”

“Yeah.” Jet raised his free hand to shake his wrist, four beaded bracelets clacking around it. “They’re supposed to keep bad luck away, some say it even keeps you alive a little longer. I’m not completely into that idea, but receiving a bracelet is pretty meaningful. To give a Killjoy bad luck beads means there’s a level of trust between ‘em.” Reaching down, he took one of Party’s hands to slot his own fingers between his. “There’s even a tiny ritual on how to give someone beads.”

Party finally lifted his head to look Jet in the eye. He didn’t need to say anything, his face was already alight with wonder.

With their palms pressed together, fingers locked, Jet squinted at his own bracelets and picked the second one down. “This one...these beads are made from walnut wood. It’s supposed to help with clarity.”

Party snorted, biting his lip. His hand quivered against Jet’s as he felt the beads sliding over his skin, settling with slight looseness against his wrist, right below his fingerless leather glove. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Even after the gift was passed on, he couldn’t find himself to let go of Jet’s hand yet, but it wasn’t like he seemed to mind.

Jet’s other fingers traced little circles right above Party’s jeans, and he leaned his face closer to nuzzle him.

Party’s pulse picked up again, but there was no anxiety this time. No fear of getting dusted, only unfathomable desire to just sink into Jet Star and curl up in his ribs forever. He bit down on his own lips hard, tucking his chin in to lower his face.

“What’s goin’ on in there?” Jet pressed his nose against Party’s temple.

Party huffed through his nostrils. “I...I wanna-- I kinda, really wanna get you off right now.”

Jet blinked. “Y’mean, like, are you uncomfortable? Should I move?”

“No, space case, I mean...” Party settled one hand against Jet’s groin, giving the thick muscle a tender squeeze. “I  _ want.” _

Jet’s chest stilled. “...Are you still caught up on the virgin thing?”

“Witch, give me strength...” Party dropped his head down to press into Jet’s sternum. “Is it so bad that I want you right now? I wanna make you feel good, please.”

The words shot down to Jet’s hips and settled hotly. “It’s not bad,” he assured him. “I just like making sure.” Party’s fingers were just barely brushing against the zipper in his jeans, eliciting a visible reaction.

Party’s lips parted, and he made quick and messy work getting the belt open. Jet was in the half of the group that was sensible enough to wear jeans that actually had some give, so he was relieved that there was more room to get his hand comfortably inside them.

“T-take your gloves off first,” Jet reminded him, pushing himself to sit up a little more.

Party cursed under his breath and tore the gloves off, though he was glad he did. “Oh...oh,  _ damn, _ Star...” Even though he was still unsure if Jet was fully hard yet, he was still bigger than Party expected.

Jet chuckled timidly, heat flushing across his cheekbones. “Thanks, I think.”

“Perfect ass, perfect dick, how are other people not crawling all over you all the time?” Party rambled, starting off at a slow pace. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, exactly, but he did really like touching it.

“Different story for a different time, ‘kay?” Jet purred, raising a hand to bury in Party’s hair. “Squeeze a little harder, Party.”

He nodded and followed direction well, staring down at his hand at work. His tongue poked at his lips, wanting more. His drive seemed to gravitate his head downward, until he was kissing Jet’s head and right under it.

“Shit, Pois--” Jet’s back arched slightly, trying not to pull at his hair. “S’pretty good.”

Party hummed, stroking a few more times before sinking his mouth down the head and pulling back up. It seemed easy enough at first, trying to take more in with every bob until his dick nearly hit the back of his throat and Party’s stomach flipped.

“Don’t force it,” Jet crooned, his fingers trailing down to massage one side of Party’s jaw. “Don’t hurt yourself, feels good as is. You’re gettin’ better.”

Party swallowed when he lifted his head to look at him, a faint taste of salt lingering on his tongue. His fingers kept stroking, and he savored the sight of Jet’s twitching, open smile and his starry eyes and the soft angles of his chin, Witch, Party wished he had his sketchbook. Curiously, his other hand sandwiched itself between Jet’s ass and the seat, grabbing as much flesh that could fit in his palm.

Jet gave a small gasp, then chuckled and let his eyes flutter shut. He pressed his head back against the window again. “So good.”

Party smiled timidly before going back down and pressing his tongue up against the underside of his length, trying to curl around it as much as he could before taking the head in his whole mouth again, and he felt the cock twitch and,  _ fuck _ , the noise Jet made was one Party wasn’t gonna forget any time soon.

It didn’t take long, though, to realize how taxing blowjobs could be. There was the aching problem of his own cock choking in his jeans, and the ache in his neck and face were starting to take its toll, no matter how hard he tried to push through it.

“Pois, hold up.” Jet gave a gentle tug to his hair, and his face looked strained. He had to catch his breath, humming. “Fuck, you okay?”

“Uh-- yeah.” Party idly wiped a smear of precum from the corner of his lips. “Are you?”

“Fffffff’yeah, I’m stellar.” Jet bit his tongue. “I’m just, shit, I’m right there.” He stopped Party’s hand from stroking him further. “...Not yet.”

“What? Why?” Party pushed himself up on his arms, his hands pressing against Jet’s thighs.

“Could I touch you back? You did so good, so far, I...don’t want you going unrewarded. I’ll show you how good it feels, Pois, would you let me?”

Party could have came from those words alone, the breathy begging did something he never realized he wanted so bad. He gave a zombie-like nod, entranced, and sat back on one heel to unzip himself. There was already a damp spot accumulated inside, and he gasped when the cool air hit him all at once.

“Take your jacket off.” Jet’s voice astoundingly switched from pleading to demanding fast enough to give Party whiplash, and he obeyed without second thought. His crop top stayed, though he had a feeling it might stick to the seat below. It was too late to care about that right now. Jet winced as he detangled his hair from the seatbelt pulley, then bent down and reached under the passenger’s seat to rummage around the med pack. “Remind me later that we need more antiseptic gel.”

“Uh huh...” Party nodded, watching Jet with a tilt of his head.

When Jet sat up again, he spread gel over his fingers, tossed the tube aside, and nudged Party to lie on his back with a little scooting. Jet struggled pulling his jeans down, muttering some frustrated words about how he couldn’t understand how Party could even stand wearing shit this tight, and there were some shared giggles between them.

And then,  _ then _ , there was Jet’s hand, slick and rough all at once, and warm and enveloping him all at once, how the fuck did he do that, and Party had to reach up and press his hand against the door’s interior as he squirmed in need.

“Fuck, you look so good,” Jet praised him, running his palm along Party’s exposed stomach, tracing over light scarring. “Does it feel good?”

Party’s conscience was lost somewhere in Jet’s warmth and how he was suddenly right on top of him, and the weird wet noises from the jerking, and it was all so much and he didn’t want it to stop, and he realized his stream of thoughts were spilling from his lips in half-incoherent syllables.

“Okay. Just hold on.” Jet did his best to position himself between Party’s legs, though his pants were stuck halfway down his calves and eventually, Jet gave up and just ducked under them instead, trapping himself because they both seemed to be in need of release right the fuck now.

“Jet?” Party was whining, because there were short moments where his hand lost focus and stopped stroking, and he soon understood why he looked so frustrated minutes ago, because being on the edge was  _ killing him _ . “What’s taking so lo-- _ unhhh, Jjjjet. _ ”

“I got you. I’m right here,” Jet whispered down in Party’s ear, his slick length rubbing up against Party, his breath hot and heavy and right fucking there, reverberating through Party’s brain. “You can touch, too.”

Party didn’t need to be told twice. Though he wasn’t exactly sure where to stroke that wasn’t bumping into Jet’s hand, his fingers brushed over their nerves and veins, and he was fucking  _ gone _ . He tried his hardest not to scream, pushing his chest up hard into Jet’s and covering his own bare abdomen in his cum, and he swore he could feel Jet’s orgasm through his own body when he followed moments after.

Both of them were sticky and slimy at the same time, and Jet did his best not to crush Party’s body, and the confines of Party’s jeans were tangled around Jet’s hips, and it was awkwardly blissful.

Party hummed to cut the silence, then nodded. “Yeah, wow.” He reached down to rest a hand over Jet’s ass one more time, just stroking the curve.

Jet’s biceps were trembling from holding himself up, but he chuckled. “I’m gonna, uh, try to detangle myself from you. Sorry if I hurt you.” He pushed Party’s legs up into the air and wriggled his way to freedom, his hair accidentally sliding through some of the white puddles streaked along Party’s ribs.

“We should get on home,” Party thought aloud, staring up at the stars. “My skin feels tingly.”

“Yeah, I get the concern.” Jet dipped down once more to clean Party off with his mouth.

Party’s muscles jerked in shock. “JET! Ew-- what the fuck!” He sat up, laughing nervously.

Jet swallowed and shrugged. “Listen, I didn’t wanna use the gauze we have left, and I wasn’t sure if you wanted Ghoul or Kobra knowing what we just did, and, like, it’s not a  _ kink _ or anything, but I really don’t care.”

They both got their pants back up and fixed themselves. Party grabbed his jacket up off the floor once he noticed goosebumps settled on his shoulders. “Alright, that’s...reasonable.” He shivered and slid the jacket back on, then clambered back into the driver’s seat.

Jet decided to take the long way and hopped out of the car only to slide back in passenger’s side. “You okay?” he asked once more.

Party turned the key. “Better. Let’s get this baby home and fix her.”

* * *

Ghoul was sitting on top of the counter by the time Party and Jet returned. Jet just gave him a small wave before disappearing into the back, and Party lingered for a moment. Ghoul looked up from the newest issue of  _ Shiny _ , and he raised his brow. “Nice beads,” he noticed aloud.

Party was thankful the room was dark, though he couldn’t help but question why the illiterate Ghoul was...attempting to read in this condition. It didn’t matter. “One of the headlights and the windshield are kinda...busted,” he confessed. Without missing a beat, the magazine smacked against his face.

“You got a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, motherfucker.” Ghoul hopped off the counter and left to check the damage.

Party sighed and picked the fallen magazine up, smiling as his gaze caught the new bracelet one more time.

**Author's Note:**

> galaxy brain: what if killjoys gave each other bad luck beads like kandis


End file.
